


The Wix

by merpl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Therapy, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merpl/pseuds/merpl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HP x Marvel. Stevie Rogers, fresh off the ice, rescues a young Harry Potter from the Dursleys and raises them at Avengers' Tower. Follow Harry from the Dursleys, through therapy, school, magic, and a whole lot of fun. Your faves are trans, queer, and Jewish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Deli and The Mall

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I intend to keep chapters about this length, and to have approximately 2-3 times as many chapters as in the books. If there are any triggers/content notes you’d like me to keep in the fic when they come up, please PM me. I also intend to provide a summary of each chapter so that anyone who needs or wants to skip it can do so without fear of missing something big and important.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little about Harry's past, and Harry and their aunt and cousin go out.

Content Warnings: food, abuse, misgendering, car accident mention. If you’d like to skip the chapter, go  [here for the extended summary](http://darodevil.tumblr.com/private/110279271358/tumblr_njdd8dCbVf1st2y7e) .

Harry grinned. For breakfast they made poached eggs with a corned beef hash, a recipe learned on one of their days helping out at a local deli. Harry met the owner, Irina Levin, about a year ago at the market, and she took the child under her wing. Under Irina's care and tutelage, Harry learned about exactly which cut of meat was the best and cheapest, which would last the longest and how to make them last even longer, and how to cook them. Harry was a quick study at cooking, and their efforts yielded results even the Dursleys were not displeased with.

Even Uncle Vernon, who was quite picky and liked to complain about even food that he liked, couldn't complain about the dish, and settled his need to maintain his power over Harry, sending him off with "well then, clean up and back to the cupboard, Boy."

"Actually, sweetheart," their Aunt Petunia began, "I'm taking Dudders shopping for clothes today, and I could use an extra pair of hands to carry the bags."

"Whatever you need, love," Vernon replied, with a smile that was almost a smirk.

Harry was pleased to be getting to leave the house, though, even though their few trips out with her and Dudley were always unpleasant. The Dursleys grounded Harry when a teacher scolding them complained that her hair had turned blue, and that was a few months ago by now. Harry was lucky when they managed to get out to the market for food, the deli was too risky an expedition. Harry didn't want to expose the Levins to the Dursleys' vitriol if Harry was found out.

Harry scrubbed the plates and washed the cutlery, timing their work to be finished just as Petunia finished freshening up. On cue, Petunia appeared, and Harry carried her things to the car, and then waited outside for her and Dudley. This usually took around fifteen minutes, so Harry passed the time meditating. Harry had taught themself how to meditate after Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had complained that it was a bunch of mumbo jumbo. Harry found it relaxing, and discovered that it made dealing with flashbacks and their relatives easier.

Sure enough, around fifteen minutes later, the other two showed up. Petunia unlocked the car, and Harry clambered into the back seat and sat as far from Dudley as they could. Luckily, the car ride was silent as Petunia didn't like noise when she drove and by now even Dudley followed that rule, having taken her warnings more seriously since her car crash a few years back. These trips usually started and ended at the two toy stores at the mall, crossed a few department stores, and a jewelry shop.

Harry eventually realized she stopped there each time in the hopes that Uncle Vernon might one day follow her to the mall and surprise her later with the item her eyes lingered on. He never did, but brought home garish pieces she pretended to love, but would somehow destroy or lose. Personally, Harry thought that was a terrible thing to do to someone, and resolved to never lose or destroy a present, no matter how much they disliked it. Harry never had a present to keep, since Irina's food didn't last forever.

Once they all reached the mall, Petunia kept a tight hold on Dudley and Harry followed, grateful that Dudley was a slow walker because otherwise she'd be difficult to keep up with. Dudley was quickly put in a bad mood when Petunia had pulled him out of the store early. Harry barely managed to maintain their poker face in spite of growing trepidation. Sure enough, in the very next store, when Aunt Petunia picked a shirt for Dudley he liked less than the one he wanted, Dudley went off.

"Mum, why does the Freak have to live with us?"

Their Aunt pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, Duddy."

Harry was used to this question, and wisely didn't interrupt. Dudley pushed them around the store and punched them once when Harry accidentally dropped one of his bags from the toy store. They were used to earning their keep, and said nothing. As usual, most people minded their own business, although Harry thought they saw a tall woman who happened into a number of the same stores frowning, but wasn't sure.

Aunt Petunia fed Dudley at the food court at the end of the trip, putting further thoughts of Harry out of his mind, something for which Harry was grateful.


	2. You Want Out, Kid?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry visits Irina, and Stevie Rogers appears.

Content warnings: Food mention, abuse, abuse rescue. 

If you’d like to skip the chapter, go [here for the extended summary.](http://darodevil.tumblr.com/private/110305085893/tumblr_njdsmuGPyL1st2y7e)

More than a week passed since that venture when Uncle Vernon announced that tonight was an important night. A representative of a major American company called Stark Industries was in Britain, and, in what came as good news to everyone, except perhaps Dudley, Vernon managed to secure a dinner with them.

Harry was expected to cook and then retreat to the cupboard, stay there, and be quiet until the next morning to make breakfast. Hoping that if the dinner went well Uncle Vernon would be in a better mood, Harry went down to the deli to pick up something for the dinner.

Irina and two of her children, Yakov and Anna, were busy at the counter. Irina didn't notice them right away, but when she did, she rushed Harry over and greeted them with hugs.

Harry grinned, "Hey Yasha, Anna. How's Ava?" Ava was the baby of the family, around Harry's age.

"She's at our cousins' place, they had a sleepover after they got tired playing after shul and dinner."

Irina ushered Harry to the cash with Anna.

"So, Annika, how's school?"

Anna scowled. "Everybody asks about school, Mama, our rabbi, Alina, Yasha, you. School's fine. How about you? Any hair incidents lately?"

Harry grimaced back. "That wasn't my fault, come on Annika, you know I didn't do that, and I couldn't have. How's Alina?"

"Fine, her parents still don't like me but we'll manage."

"They did catch the two of you snogging, didn't they?"

Anna flushed, sighing, "It wasn't how we intended to tell them."

"Does your mum know?"

"No, it's complicated, you know that."

"No, I thought Alina's parents might have told her, or that you might have told her to avoid her finding out from them. So it's just going to be your private life and not her business, then? That sounds rough."

"I mean, it's not private. You know, Yasha knows, Alina's parents know, half the school probably knows. If she wanted to listen for it, she would know. But these are things she doesn't want to know. Besides, do the Dursleys know about you?"

"I'm not disagreeing with your choice, Annika. I'm just sorry, that's all. And you know if they knew I wouldn't be in one piece."

The conversation after was easy, and Harry eventually mentioned the night's job. Irina muttered something uncomplimentary, presumably about the Dursleys, in Russian, and after about 20 customers came through, Irina sent Harry home with the night's dinner and a delicious sandwich, pastrami on rye. Harry made sure to finish the sandwich before they got back, and then started to do what little was left of preparation for cooking dinner. Harry sliced, diced, boiled, broiled, and washed their hands. Rinse and repeat.

Harry pulled out the weekend's homework, a worksheet on fractions and a reading comprehension worksheet, and worked at the maths and read the passage in between kitchen tasks. The fractions were easy enough to simplify, and a number of them worked out to whole numbers, Harry realized, wiping their eyes on a sleeve after dicing an onion. The passage wasn't too much of an issue either, Harry realized.

Supposedly it came from  _The Lost Years of Merlin_  by TA Barron, a book about a young wizard. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia wouldn't like that book very much, Harry realized; magic was like a cuss word in their household. Grinning as they turned down the heat with half an hour to spare, Harry resolved to read that book next time they managed to go to the library, but tonight, they had their imagination to look for. During times when Harry was expected to stay in the cupboard, they usually maintained quiet conversations with themself. They were never caught, and it helped pass the time. Tonight, perhaps, Harry would talk with themself about Merlin the wizard. Warlock? Wizard? Harry wasn't sure.

Harry began to wind down the dish, since they couldn't be out to plate it and risk being seen. Satisfied that the kitchen was in a stable state, they gave Petunia careful instructions for how to take things out and serve them. Everything would come out in the span of a minute, giving her five minutes to plate and serve before Vernon's guest arrived.

Harry retreated to the cupboard, hoping everything went according to plan, and began to talk to themself. The conversation quickly turned from wondering what kinds of conversations they'd have with Irina if she were their mother to a conversation about superheroes to a game of blindfold chess, which was quickly given up as Harry couldn't remember where the pieces were.

Harry was too engrossed in conversation about the teacher whose hair turned blue to notice the clack of heels walking past the cupboard, but was well enough aware by the time the heels turned around. Harry quieted, but by that time heard a deep, calming voice, just a whisper.

"Hello, is someone in there?"

Harry was silent, but couldn't help but breathing a little nervously.

"My name is Stevie. You seem about school-age, so I assume people have heard about this and done nothing. You want out, kid?"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia wouldn't hesitate to throw them out once they found out Harry was caught in the cupboard, and being homeless wherever this Stevie was taking them couldn't be as bad as being homeless in Surrey. "Yes."

"Alright," Stevie whispered back. "I'll pick the lock on this thing, and leave you my watch. I'll be leaving in exactly 20 minutes. Can you get out the house quietly and meet me out front then?"

"Yes," Harry whispered back, and heard the lock and caught the watch and small light pushed through the door, and heard the sound of heels walking away.

Harry kept their eye on the watch, planning an escape route that involved getting out through a bathroom window quietly exactly as the Dursleys were showing Stevie out. Harry climbed out the window just as the Dursleys retreated into the house, and then pretended to be tending the garden. Stevie covered Harry's shadow and Harry piled into the backseat of a mini.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry escapes the Dursleys and flies with Stevie, their new guardian, to New York.

Content warnings: food, panic, anxiety, abuse mention, trauma. The summary above covers the events.

The escape was perfectly orchestrated, and weeks that followed were a whirlwind. Ms. Rogers, or Stevie, as she insisted Harry call her, opened the sofa bed in her room, and Harry curled into a pillow and cried. Stevie wasn't pushy, but put the kettle on, and offered Harry a mug of steaming tea. Harry wiped their eyes and gingerly sipped the tea, offering her a weak smile. Harry didn't sleep much that night, and some part of them registered that Stevie wasn't really sleeping either.

The next morning when Stevie went out to bring in breakfast, she returned with some clothes and hair ornaments for Harry, along with textbooks she insisted Harry work through to make up for missing school. Harry decided quickly that this was a fair trade because the workbooks were relatively easy and Dudley's gang wasn't there. Harry tore through reading comprehension, maths, and grammar work, and everything was going okay, but a passage came up about a runaway kid, and Harry froze up. A million thoughts clogged their mind.  _Am I a runaway? Are they going to make me go back? What if Stevie's taking the mickey? Will I be on the run forever? Am I going to go to prison? What if I die?_

Harry momentarily forgot to breathe, and Stevie, frowning, handed the shivering child a glass of water. Harry was too afraid to ask any of these questions, though, because Stevie might not have thought of them either, and what if they scared her off from helping, and the help was badly needed. Stevie shut her laptop and shot Harry a reassuring smile and they immediately felt bad, because it was almost like lying to the kind woman.

A few days later Stevie raised the issue of guardianship and where Harry would stay. Although Stevie offered to support Harry if they decided to stay in the UK, Harry wanted to be far from the Dursleys. Several evaluations, lawyers, long distance phone calls to someone named Tony, and tearful goodbyes filled with promises to write and call Harry's friends from the deli later, Harry was about to go on their first plane ride ever, one that would take them to New York City. Harry didn't know much about what to expect other than that they'd secured a nonstop flight, something Stevie seemed inordinately pleased about, muttering something about Berlin and layovers.

The airport was busy, even busier than the shopping mall in late December, and that was saying something. Harry, dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, and leggings, one of the four outfits they had inherited from Anna Levin that still fit, clung to Stevie's side, breathing heavily and deliberately, as they slowly made their way through the airport. Stevie didn't seem to mind that Harry was frightened, but she did make a number of stops to look at various stores and sit down, and they made a few bathroom trips as well. Harry was grateful for the stops, which eased their nerves some. A grumpy officer pushed them through security, and eventually, Stevie and Harry reached the gate and boarded the plane.

The pair had their row all to themselves, and settled comfortably in the seats. When Stevie pulled out a book to read, Harry copied her action, wanting to act properly. The book kept Harry fairly well occupied, and they barely had time to worry about what would happen if Tony didn't like them or if Stevie decided she wanted to send Harry back. A stewardess named Marie brought Harry puzzles and snacks, but Harry just read and read until the seven and a half hour flight was over.


End file.
